


Star-Speckled Band-Aids

by orphan_account



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Brainwashing, Child Abuse, Cults, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Horror, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Sorry Not Sorry, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 22:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19119061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Daniel told him he was going to kill him, Max’s mind immediately went to the worst case scenario. This is it, he thinks, I’m doomed. But of course, Max is known for his wit, and he uses it to the best of his ability in order to get himself out of this mess.“Do you have to kill me physically? Surely mentally would be way more interesting.”





	1. Choice

“…So, what’ll it be Max?” Daniel’s voice has an innocent ring to it as he speaks, the man staring down at the boy with unblinking eyes, hands folded in front of him. He ignores the boy’s sickly, terrified expression, continuing, “I want to make this fun, after all! The usual way’s boring—are you partial to torture? Drowning? Burning at the stake?”

_Wow, this guy is fucked up._

Max chuckles nervously, looking around at the tent they’re in, leaning back in his seat. He knows getting help won’t work; everyone’s locked in the cafeteria. He knows running won’t work because, as much as he hates to admit it, he can’t run as fast as an adult, let alone someone hellbent on killing him. _God, David, I hate your guts, but I wish you were here right now…_

Daniel tilts his head to the side, leaning forward, “Well, Max? What’ll it be?”

 _Think, think, think!_ Max struggles to breathe, tugging at the collar of his hoodie, green eyes darting this way and that for some kind of way out. An escape he can’t see.

A thought comes to mind, and his eyes widen, the boy leaning forward, “Does it have to be the physical kind of killing?”

Daniel’s smile fades, “I’m sorry?”

“Do you have to kill me physically?” Max tries again, fumbling with his hands. He huffs, shaking his head. “Surely, killing me mentally would be way more interesting.”

Daniel pauses. A perplexed expression crosses his face, his eyes narrowing, the man scratching at his chin as he thinks it over, Max imagining cogs turning in the man’s head as sweat slides down his face. “…Perhaps,” the man says at last. “I’m sure—yes, that would work.” The creepy, air-chilling smile flashes across his face. “Actually, that would be perfect.”

Max gulps.

This isn’t going to end well.

_Me and my fuckin’ mouth._

Before he can react, Daniel pulls out his violin and swings, cracking it against the boy’s face. Max collapses, vision blurring and head crying out, blood oozing from a wound on his head.

The last thing he sees is Daniel’s grinning face hovering over him before he’s dragged into the darkness, body dragged into the woods.

“Don’t you worry, Max. Everything will go according to plan.”

*

When he wakes up next, he finds himself in the back seat of a car.

_What…?_

With a grunt, Max moves to sit up, flopping back down when he can’t move his hands or feet. He looks down and finds zip ties wrapped around his wrists and ankles, keeping him immobile, leaving him stuck in a lying position.

“Hey, don’t move around too much back there,” he hears a voice say cheerfully in the front seat. “Wouldn’t want you to fall over and break something! That’s for later!”

It takes his brain a moment to catch up.

The conspiracies. The counseling session.

David.

Daniel.

His stupid fucking decision.

Nausea washes over him. Shit. He almost forgot—he’s a prisoner.

And it’s his own damn fault.

 _I gotta get outta here_. Looking around, Max’s eyes find the window, watching the trees roll past. He tracks them, trying to commit them to memory, “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere nobody will find you!”

Comforting. Max rubs at his eye with his shoulder, his eyes watering. His head aches. “Wh…what exactly are you going to do to me?” he asks.

Daniel looks at him through the rearview mirror, the smile on his face hard to read. “Exactly what you asked of me, Max!” A laugh. “Trust me, we’re going to have a lot of fun!”

_Jesus Christ, this was a mistake._

Max struggles against his bonds, trying to break free. _This isn’t working…_ “Asshole, I asked a question! At least give me a straight answer!”

His protests are met with a steely glare.

“Quiet—or else I’ll do something I’ll really regret. And we wouldn’t want that, would we, Max?”

Max can’t find it in him to respond.

Daniel goes back to driving, and Max lays his head down back on the seat, expression blank, gaze drifting to the window.

He realizes he doesn’t recognize where they are anymore.

He’s not sure if he wants to.


	2. Trapped

It feels like an eternity before they finally come to a stop.

Max lifts his head up with a groan, head pounding and hands numb, squinting through the haze in his head to look around. They’re still in a heavily-forested area, from what he can tell; trees stretching on for miles. A house stands in the center of a clearing, a tiny cabin among the sea of trees, acting as the only sign of human life in the middle of the wild.

_Slam!_

Daniel exits the car, and Max scrambles back, pushing himself up and away from the door, pressing himself against the other side of the car. Daniel, of course, isn’t bothered by this; he just walks around the car and opens the other door, allowing Max to tumble out and onto the concrete.

“We’re here,” Daniel claims, still holding a forced smile on his face. He grabs Max roughly by the collar of his shirt, saying, “Now, let’s hurry up, shall we? You need to get acquainted with your new room!”

Max doesn’t have it in him to fight, too sluggish to respond. Still, he manages a glare, grimacing.

Daniel carries him into the tiny house and through what looks like a cross between a living room and an altar, heading down a hallway and into a stairway.

Max’s heart hammers against his chest, “How high up does it go?”

“High enough,” Daniel responds.

They head up, and up, and up—and god, his head is spinning. His body aches. If only he could sleep…

He yelps when he’s tossed inside a tiny room, Daniel pulling out a knife.

“H—Hey, hey!” Max screams, crawling back, “we agreed on the no-murdering thing!”

Daniel just chuckles. “Oh, Max, don’t be silly. This is just to take care of the ties.” Daniel frees him, Max rubbing at his wrists. When the boy goes to stand, the man aims the knife at his face, saying, “No getting up until I’m gone, though, alright?”

Max stills. He looks up at the man, his eyes narrowed, “I still don’t get why you’re doing this.”

Daniel heads for the door, humming. With a shrug of his shoulders, he turns to Max, his hand on the door handle as he says, “Because it’s fun.”

And Daniel slams the door closed, leaving Max sitting there, helpless, lost and alone.

_Click!_

*

“…Hello? Is anybody out there?”

Silence.

Max sighs, throwing his hands up in the air and pacing. He shoves his hands in his pockets, muttering under his breath, “This is fucking bullshit.”

The room Daniel locked him in isn’t too small, at least. A small desk, a dresser, and a bed fit well enough inside that he still has room to pace, though no amount of walking around or searching the room has done him any good. Everything in the room is a shade of white; probably due to Daniel’s “purity” obsession, no doubt about it. Even the clothes (which are uncomfortably around his size, fitting perfectly) are made of white fabric, hoodies, pants and all.

A single camera blinks in the corner of the room, a bright, red light popping in and out of existence on its side.

 _He’s done this before_ , the boy notes. _Creepy_.

Max gives it a passing glare and stops underneath the skylight, being the only source of light in the room, tilting his head. He glances between it and the dresser, frowning. _Not tall enough. Desk’s too small, too…damn._

He’s trapped.

 _Nice going, Max. Got yourself out of one shitty situation and right into another one_.

With a groan, he falls back against his bed, running his hands along his face. _What a disaster…_

He takes a glance at the walls, noticing their bare, pale color with a roll of his eyes. White, white, white. Why did everything in here have to be white? Just looking around hurts his eyes—

Wait.

Bare walls. Empty room.

Skylight overhead.

_Holy shit._

Jumping to his feet, Max runs over to the skylight, looking up through it. All he can see is rolling clouds and trees, no doubt still somewhere in the middle of the woods.

But that doesn’t mean he’s that far out from camp.

_Let’s hope this works._

Taking in a breath, he opens his mouth, screaming at the top of his lungs. Doing whatever he can to draw attention to himself.

He may have agreed to this, but that didn’t mean he’d make it easy. After all, he’s a known troublemaker—and trouble is what Daniel signed up for the moment he decided he was going to kill Max.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ohhh boy my first whump fic
> 
> ohhhhh boyyyy
> 
> warnings come in during later chapters; will be marked in notes!
> 
> updates when i have the spoons


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